


this kitten's got your tongue tied in knots

by ballsdeepinjesus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Halloween, M/M, as always they meet and have sex less than 12 hours later, i mean that's p much it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballsdeepinjesus/pseuds/ballsdeepinjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Oi, you alright?” Louis asks, stepping closer to the tree and craning his neck upwards painfully as he looks at the boy fifteen feet up in the branches. “Could you please climb down before you hurt yourself?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>“You’re supposed to save me,” the boy answers, his voice slow and molten in a way Louis isn’t sure is just from the alcohol. “Come save me, please.”</em><br/> </p><p>[it's halloween, harry is a kitten in a tree and louis is a (fake) firefighter.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	this kitten's got your tongue tied in knots

**Author's Note:**

> do any of u remember me….it’s been so long…..
> 
> ik ik this dinky wordcount is hardly worth anything but it’s a start innit!!!! lemme tell u, 2 jobs + writer’s block + limited internet access is a biTCH
> 
> but anyway here’s a lil halloweenie thing. i swear i have like 23k in a google doc of a fic ive worked on since JANUARY but life’s been a lil hard and it’s been a struggle to finish altho i am like 80% done lol yayyy

There’s a drunk boy in the tree in Louis’ backyard. There’s a drunk boy in Louis’ tree wearing lipstick and kitten ears who is meowing down at Louis with increasing urgency. It’s Halloween and nearly half of the town’s population is at his party, so Louis won’t call the cops just yet, but he’s still concerned. The tree is quite high and the boy’s cheeks are flushed in a way that can only be attributed to lots and lots of vodka.. He’d rather not see such a pretty face get broken when he makes the inevitable crash back down to earth.

“Meow,” the boy calls plaintively. He stretches on his chosen branch and smiles happily as he wraps his arms around the tree trunk, eyes closing in drunken bliss now that he’s caught Louis’ attention. Louis blinks and pointedly looks away from the bare strip of his soft tummy exposed from where his shirt has ridden up. He has a leafy tattoo peaking out from his leggings. Louis swallows.

“Oi, you alright?” Louis asks, stepping closer to the tree and craning his neck upwards painfully as he looks at the boy fifteen feet up in the branches. “Could you please climb down before you hurt yourself?”

“You’re supposed to save me,” the boy answers, his voice slow and molten in a way Louis isn’t sure is just from the alcohol. “Come save me, please.” He says it politely too, with a happy lilt to his voice and a sleepy blink of his eyes that has his lashes fanning shadows onto his cheeks. He grins, his dusty-pink-stained lips stretching wide to reveal bright white teeth. 

“What’s your name?” Louis asks abruptly.

“Harry,” he supplies. “Harry the Cat. _Me-oww._ ” Christ, he’s _very_ drunk.

“Hiya Harry,” Louis replies, voice taking on the soft timbre he uses on his sisters when they’re being especially difficult. “Could you tell me why exactly I’m supposed to save you?”

Harry blinks twice while his painted nose wrinkles in confusion. “You are a firefighter aren’t you? Rescuing kittens from trees is in your job description.” He sits up straight and folds his leg up onto the branch, teetering on his flimsy seat while he rests his chin on his knee. He curls his hand like it’s his paw and bats at the air in Louis’ direction. “Meow.”

Louis looks down at himself in surprise, having nearly forgotten what he’s wearing. It isn’t an inspired costume choice, really, especially since he swapped it from one of his friends in exchange for his usual costume. Going as Spider-Man three years in a row in a cheap spandex costume was a bit much, even for him. He shed his heavy jacket an hour into the party, so he stands now in just a white t-shirt and baggy pants, his braces pooled around his waist. Fucking hates braces, he does. 

“Ah yes,” Louis finally answers. “Quite a bit behind on my certifications, though, seeing as how I work in investment banking. You shouldn’t be trusting me with your life, babe.”

“Your uniform is a lie,” Harry sniffs. “Looking all manly and rugged in your firefighting outfit when you can’t even climb a tree to save a kitten.” He frowns at Louis, his lower lip drawn down in a pout that makes him look even younger than he did before. Speaking of--.

“How old are you?”

“23,” Harry answers. “That’s four and a half in cat years.”

“Right,” Louis says. He places his hands on his hips and looks around the yard for anyone who can help. Unfortunately, everyone seems to be inside to avoid the frigid October temperature or passed out on his lawn. He’s not sure how his party ended like this, but he’s positive Niall’s questionable taste in friends has a lot to do with it. “Well Harry, I’m sorry my costume has misled you, but regardless I need you to climb out of this tree before you break your neck.”

“Not until you save me,” Harry argues. “You may not be a firefighter but you’re still _dressed_ as one. It’s your -- it’s your civil duty.”

Louis curses under his breath and eyes the tree like it’s a puzzle his baby siblings have eaten half of the pieces for. He hadn’t taken much notice of the tree when he bought the house earlier in the year, other than vague approval at the thought of having a small backyard and a tree for a playhouse when the day came for him to have children. Never did he expect to be rescuing a boy with smudged whiskers on his face from it on a freezing Halloween night. “How do I do this?” he mumbles to himself, stepping closer to the tree and rubbing his palms over the cold bark. “How did _he_ do this? Hey, Kitten,” he calls, glancing up and seeing a fascinated Harry already watching him. It’s dark, but he’s sure he sees the boy’s cheeks flush in the moonlight. Maybe from the alcohol, he thinks. “How did you climb up here?”

“Used my claws,” he answers with a cheesy grin that fades when Louis rolls his eyes. “Rude. I just climbed it. Used the little knobby spots as footholds.” He yawns then, stretching precariously on the branch in a way that makes Louis’ stomach dip nervously. “Can you please come and get me now? I want a cuddle.”

Louis gulps and nods, rubbing his palms together before he makes his first move. He grabs at a gnarled piece of bark with one hand and lifts his foot to another spot, lifting himself two feet above the ground. “This is an awful, awful idea,” he mutters to himself. “Bloody cute boys making me do stupid things--fuck this,” he curses, jumping back onto the ground. “I’m getting a ladder. I don’t know what kind of bizarre agility you have--.”

“I do yoga,” Harry answers placidly. “I’m used to contorting my body.” Right then. Louis spins in place without a word and jogs to his garage for his ladder. His mum convinced him he’d need one even though his home reno skills were limited to googling names of local businesses. And his first time using it is to rescue a human kitten from his tree. Had to happen sometime, he supposes.

He coughs and inhales dust trying to grab the ladder without touching the copious amounts of cobwebs that have taken over the small space. He drags it through the yard noisily and sets it up against his tree, banging and clanging until the ladder stands relatively steady, just a foot or two beneath Harry’s branch. 

“Can you climb down the ladder?” he asks.

Harry glances at the ladder and then back at Louis, shaking his head nervously from side to side. “I had way too many jello shots for that.”

“Why didn’t you think about this when you were climbing _up_ the tree?” Louis complains, reluctantly stepping onto the bottom rung of the ladder and beginning to climb. 

“Don’t be angry with me,” Harry says, his glassy eyes growing even shinier, his chin wobbling tremulously. 

“I’m not angry,” Louis quickly assures him. “Just please don’t climb this tree again unless you're one hundred percent sober and confident in your ability to climb down without a fake firefighter to help you.” Harry’s frown clears and he nods quickly, making grabby hands for him. Louis eyes the dangerous-looking branch with concern, but Harry looks so eager that he can’t turn him down. He gingerly makes his way over to the spot nearest to the trunk, fitting his body snugly next to Harry’s. The view is unexpectedly picturesque, orange and purple decorations lighting up the neighborhood, streets long since empty of trick-or-treaters. Cranky Mr. Johnson down the street is already outside removing his lone Halloween decoration -- a bloody sign demanding _No Trespassers._ Hopefully the blood isn’t authentic. “So,” he says, turning to face Harry and finding his face unexpectedly close to his own, Harry’s chest angled towards Louis. Harry flutters his eyelashes daintily and rests his chin on Louis’ shoulder. Louis wraps a hesitant arm around Harry’s body, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s shoulder to keep him warm. 

“Nice to meet you, fireman,” Harry whispers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be meowing?” jokes Louis, looking away from Harry’s pouty lips which are startlingly close to his own. His lipstick is smudged in the corner of his mouth; Louis resists the urge to wet his thumb and clean it up. 

“Meow,” Harry gamely offers. “I don’t even know your name. Well, I do actually, because Niall told me his mate Louis was throwing the party. Among other things. Like how I shouldn’t suck your dick because he’d kill me for fucking one of his best friends because then two of his best friends would be fucking and as much as he thinks we’d be a perfect couple he’s not standing around and being a third wheel for anyone.” He finishes his rambling with a pained sigh and a wistful glance at Louis’ crotch. “I really want to suck your dick. Anyway -- I know your name but I don’t _know_ your name.”

If Louis was just a tiny bit drunker, he’s sure he would have plummeted to his death about five seconds into Harry’s spiel. As it stands, he has an iron grip on the branch beneath him as he wills away an unwanted stiffy. “I’m not sure what to say,” he admits. “I’m Louis. But you...already know that?”

“True,” Harry nods wisely. “Will you let me give you a blowjob then?”

“We’re in a tree!” Louis squawks.

“Is that your only objection?” Harry asks. “Would you let me suck you off if we weren’t in a tree?”

He can’t believe that’s even a question. Harry, who has seemingly dressed as a sex kitten tonight, wants to know if Louis would let him give him a blowjob. Harry, with his pouty lips and pretty doe eyes, wants permission to suck his cock. Of fucking course he can.

“We don’t even know each other,” he answers instead, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s subtly highlighted cupid’s bow. 

Harry narrows his eyes. “Your name is Louis, you’re an investment banker, and Niall is one of your best friends. I’m Harry, 23, and I work in a fertility clinic helping other people have babies. Niall is one of my best friends. It’s 2015, pal. People have sucked each other off with less of a biography than that.” He pauses for a moment and looks away at the house. “Unless you just don’t want me to give you one? Which is perfectly fine, of course! But a simple rejection will do just as well, you know.”

He looks regretfully sullen at that, like the idea of Louis not wanting him is devastating even though he doesn’t want to be. Louis can’t handle the downtrodden look on his face. “Harry, kitten, you are without a doubt the fittest creature to hit on me in the past....entirety of my life. I climbed this godforsaken tree just because you wanted a cuddle. I would tear me own arm off _27 Hours_ style just to get your mouth on my cock. But you’re drunk, darling. I’m not taking advantage of you like that.”

Blinking slowly at him with a blank stare on his pretty face, Louis worries he’s said the wrong thing. Has he somehow scared him off? But then--.

“Holy shit,” Harry breathes. “Ask me to marry you when I’m sober.”

He launches himself at Louis, planting his mouth on his own wetly, arms wrapped around his neck. The branch wobbles dangerously and Louis truly fears for his life, but at least he’ll die happy. He places a hand on Harry’s hip to steady him and rests his other at the nape of his neck, stroking the impossibly soft strands of hair that run down his back. He tilts Harry’s head to the side and licks along his bottom lip, groaning when Harry whimpers into his mouth and opens his own wider, flicking his tongue along Louis’. 

It’s only when the tree branch begins to make a suspiciously splintering sound that Louis tears himself away, panting. He spares one moment to take Harry in -- cheeks flushed scarlet and his rosy lips messy with smudged lipstick and spit -- before he springs into action, climbing onto the top rung of the ladder and pulling Harry into his arms. Harry jumps and wraps his legs around Louis’ waist, causing the ladder to lurch to the side dangerously; it topples back into place right as the branch they were sitting on tears completely, dangling uselessly from the tree for a split second before clattering to the ground. 

“Oh my God,” he croaks. “We almost died.”

“Yeah,” Harry whimpers. “You saved my life. I’m so horny right now.”

“Um. Okay,” Louis responds.

“Can you send everyone home?” Harry asks. “I’d like to cuddle with you until we fall asleep and I wake up completely sober and capable of giving you the best blowjob of your life.

“Sounds perfect,” Louis manages to reply, immediately starting to climb back down the ladder gingerly. Harry is surprisingly light in his arms; once they’re finally on blissfully solid ground, Louis can see why. Harry is slender and dainty, like a--like a feather.

Harry stumbles on his feet and reaches for Louis’ arm to balance himself. “I don’t think I should do that again,” he admits, glancing up at where he’d been sat in the tree as if he’s finally realizing how risky climbing up there had been.

“Not even to be rescued by fake firefighters?” Louis jokes. Harry beams at him and steps close to wrap his arms behind Louis’ head once more.

“Already found myself the fittest fake firefighter there is, didn’t I?”

Louis manages to kick out his party guests in record time, mostly thanks to Niall’s loud mouth. The last one out the door, he gives them a disgusted but indulgent look once he’s on Louis’ doorstep. Harry stands next to him, his face cuddled into Louis’ neck . “Couldn’t just stay away from each other, could yeh? Fuckin’ bloody third wheel--.”

“Please, Niall,” Harry cuts in happily. “You practically encouraged this. You knew it would happen. Just embrace it.”

“Embrace my arse,” Niall mumbles grumpily. “Love you little bastards.”

Louis helps Harry take off his makeup, washing the smeared lipstick and whiskers from his face until he’s bare faced and pale. He blinks sleepily at him under the harsh bathroom lighting and Louis wonders briefly whether Harry’s costume wasn’t partly based in truth. He is a kitten.

He further proves the point by snuggling into Louis’ chest in his bed, his snuffling snores vibrating against his chest like little purrs.

***

There’s sunlight blinding Louis’ eyes, which is odd since he was sure he had his curtains drawn shut the night before and -- and oh yes, that’s a rather insistent hand rubbing along the seam of his joggers. He blinks his sleepiness away and looks down to see a devilishly satisfied Harry grinning up at him from the end of the bed, dressed in nothing but his pants from the night before. “Morning,” Louis grumbles.

“Hi,” Harry answers. “I’m sober. One hundred percent completely sober.” He wiggles his eyebrows cartoonishly and pulls at the strings of Louis’ joggers. “I believe I have a blowjob to redeem.”

“Go for it,” Louis laughs. He feels a bit cocky -- no pun intended -- on his bed with his arms crossed under his head while simply lies back and watches Harry with hooded eyes. But Harry seems even more excited than Louis’ dick feels, biting his lip in concentration as he tugs Louis’ joggers to his knees. He leaves them pooled there and immediately cups his palm over Louis’ pants-covered cock, squeezing the length of it gently from root to tip.

“Christ,” Louis mutters, rolling his neck and tilting his head towards his shoulder to watch. Harry surges forward and places a quick kiss to Louis’ mouth, darting down right after to place another lingering kiss over the head of his cock. He flicks his tongue teasingly against the head and suckles through the cotton, soaking through the material completely. He tugs Louis’ pants down much slower than he did his joggers, kissing every newly revealed inch of skin and nuzzling his nose into the short, coarse hairs that spring free.

Once Louis’ half-hard erection is uncovered, Harry yanks his pants to his knees, apparently tired of his own teasing, and licks a broad path up his cock. “Mmm,” he mumbles, sending vibrations shooting through his sensitive skin. “You have a really nice penis.”

Louis laughs into his shoulder, so, so endeared with the gloriously pretty boy trying to get him off. “Of all the words to use, you choose penis. Remarkably unsexy, Harry.”

Harry shrugs, completely unconcerned. “I love cock. I embrace every possible term and euphemism for it with open arms. And mouth.” He ducks down again and covers the first few inches of Louis’ prick with his mouth, tucking his lips inside to shield him from his teeth. He flattens and teases his tongue along the underside of his length and moans, making Louis gasp and buck into his mouth. Circling his fist around the rest of his cock that his mouth isn’t yet covering, Harry starts pumping him slowly while he works his tongue against the head. Louis feels himself fatten up inside Harry’s mouth, grunting at the sight of Harry’s red, spit-slick lips stretched wide around his cock. Harry hums approvingly as Louis hardens completely, filling his wide mouth to the brim. He moves his fist down a bit more and begins bobbing his head slowly, hollowing his cheeks and making his cheekbones appear sharp enough to cut glass. He’s honestly beautiful, everything about him, but especially the hazy glaze of his bright eyes as he glances up at Louis, looking sultry and content as his mouth slips further down onto his cock.

“Perfect,” Louis murmurs, unfolding his arms and reaching down to pet at Harry’s hair, brushing his long locks away from his forehead. He holds his hand there, gripping his hair against the side of his head. Harry blinks slowly and nudges his head against Louis’ hand; when Louis doesn’t react, he nudges again, more insistent this time, like he’s trying to tell him -- _oh._

Louis tugs Harry’s hair sharply and marvels at the shuddering breath Harry takes through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact. He tugs again and pulls him off entirely, transfixed by the sight of Harry whining and trying to push forward for more. Instead he lets him wait, thumb moving down to dust along Harry’s cheekbone and down to the corner of his mouth. He then leads him back to his cock, pushing down, down, _down_ until Harry’s nose is nestled at the base of his dick and his throat is tickling his head. Harry barely makes a sound -- because _of course_ he doesn’t have a bloody gag reflex -- and tries to move impossibly further down like he wants to swallow Louis whole. 

Harry’s nostrils flare but his breathing remains steady and even, almost tranquil with Louis’ cock nearly down his throat. The only hint of him being affected is the rhythmic rotations of his hips against the bed every few moments. Louis wants to dig his nails into the tiny roll of skin above his waistband and help him roll those hips onto his own. He’ll have to save that fantasy for another time.

“You’re so good, baby,” Louis whispers. He tugs Harry off slowly, until just the head is left in his mouth. Harry sucks happily at the tip, running his tongue around the folds of skin, smirking triumphantly when Louis’ hips buck up to his mouth. He doesn’t think he can last much longer, not when Harry looks at him like that. “Think you can get me off now, darling?” he asks, tugging Harry back down in encouragement. “You’ve got me so close. Just a little more.”

Harry must take it as a personal challenge because he eagerly bobs his head with every nudge of Louis’ hand, bringing his fist back to the base to jerk him with each thrust. Louis’ hips push up from the bed every few strokes, his movements becoming stuttered as Harry takes him closer to the edge. 

The final push -- the moment that has him spilling into Harry’s mouth with a loud grunt of his name -- is when he sees Harry’s hips stutter against the bed twice, the boy moaning around his cock, loud and blissed out as he comes just from sucking Louis off. Louis can’t help but follow suit, hissing when Harry swallows his come, licking up the bits that run down his chin. He releases Harry’s hair and breathes harshly as he pulls Harry up to his chest, kissing him everywhere in thanks. 

“So glad we waited,” Harry croaks a minute later, his voice delightfully destroyed as he looks up from his spot on Louis’ chest and adds, “Such a gentleman, you are. Definitely wanted to be sober for this.”

“We can do this as much as you want,” Louis says. “Just make sure you stop climbing my bloody tree to get my attention.”

Harry smiles widely. “As long as I get you climb you instead, Mister Fireman.”

(Not too surprisingly, he’s much better at climbing Louis.)

**Author's Note:**

> sigh cross ur fingers i start getting bigger things done soon lol i miss writing :(
> 
> catch me on tumblr @ harrusmol


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